Page 36 of Harts & Hurts

“She’s nervous.” I stated the obvious just to put it out into the atmosphere. “She’s never left her before.”

“I know,” Gretta assured us. “But I promise, I’ve got her.”

I looked at Anistyn. “It won’t be a long night. I promise.” I glanced at Gretta after checking my watch and seeing that it was barely 5:00 p.m. “We’ll be back before ten o’clock.”

16

Anistyn

“I can’t believe you got Gretta to come over and watch Melrose tonight,” I told Griffin as he waited for me to sit down at the table. He had taken me to a restaurant called Comfort on the Coast. It was homey and cozy, but upscale and elegant at the same time. It smelled like baking bread, spices, and seafood.

Instead of sitting across from me, like I thought he would, Griffin pulled the chair right next to mine. I couldn’t help shaking my head. “What?” he asked as if he was confused about why I was looking at him like he was doing too much.

“You know what. You just gotta be trying to live in my skin.”

He gave me a cheesy grin. “I’m a little obsessed with you, huh?”

“Uh, yeah.”

We both laughed.

“Nah. Once I told her that I was trying to get you out of the house so you could have a little break, she offered.” He took a deep breath. “You do a lot, Anistyn. And I never want you to feel like you’re not seen . . . or that you’re only seen as the labor you provide. You’re so much more than that. You’re the head coach of this team.”

“Thank you.” I picked up my menu so he wouldn’t see how his words affected me. I was one day off my period, so there were still some residual hormones floating around, ready to have me crying at the drop of a hat.

“I love low-country food. Everything looks good.”

“You’re right.” My eyes moved up and down the menu several times as I tried to narrow down what I had the most pronounced taste for, because everything on the menu looked like something I would enjoy.

By the time the waitress arrived, I had decided and placed my order. Once Griffin placed his, I looked over at him.

“Have you spoken to your mom?” I had mixed emotions, regarding Mrs. Hart. On the one hand, I probably would never get over the fact that she reported me to CPS. On the other hand, she was his mother, not some distant relative. She birthed and cared for him in the way only a mother could. He loved her. Yes, she had fucked up. Still, mothers were given a certain level of leniency, especially when they had recently lost a child, and they didn’t have a history of fuckups. I wouldn’t be mad or bitter if he decided to forgive her. I would just hope that he wouldn’t expect me to do the same.

“I haven’t. When my dad explained the possible ramifications of the stunt she pulled, she called my phone, crying and apologetic. She told me that she never even considered the outcome. She was too pissed and offended by your behavior to think past her own anger. I told her that I wouldn’t accept an apology from her until she was ready to apologize to you.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Shit, it wasn’t me she tried to bury; it was you. She should apologize to you . . . and to Melrose to a lesser extent.”

I smirked. “I’m sure she has no intentions of apologizing to me.”

“She claimed she would, but I find it interesting that it’s been over three weeks, and that apology hasn’t come. In the meantime, I only interact with her when my dad runs point.”

“Griff, you don’t have to hold a grudge against your mom because of me.” I sighed heavily. “I just lost my sister and my brother-in-law unexpectedly. Tomorrow isn’t promised. That situation isn’t worth holding a grudge over. Now, if CPS had removed Melrose from our custody? Yes, hold a grudge. Never forgive her. But in this situation, she tried it, and it went nowhere. No harm, no foul.”

“I don’t know, baby. I’m not quite there yet. We’ll see.”

I dropped it because I understood that, sometimes, it took a minute to work through negative feelings. Instead, we talked about other things. I caught him up on how the “mommy and me” classes I was taking with Melrose were going. We talked about his work and made loose plans to look at furniture to furnish the main house when it was ready.

Soon enough, the server brought the appetizers: cheese straws, fried green tomatoes, and deviled eggs. Later, he returned with the steaming dishes we had ordered as entrees. Griffin had pan-fried whiting with brown butter grits, lemon and herb-braised okra, and hot honey skillet cornbread. I had a country captain served over a bed of Carolina gold rice, a chilled cucumber and radish salad, and buttermilk biscuits.

“That was so good,” I told Griffin as he covered our bill. “I have to come back here.”

“I’ll bring you back.”

My shoulder rubbed against his, and I gave him a smile. “Okay.” The more time I spent with Griffin, the more I liked him. I always thought he was handsome and had a good personality. I thought he was sexy, and his sex had me dick-matized. Now, I was falling for the heart underneath all the muscle. I was falling for the man whose word was his bond. He didn’t just say that we were a team; he showed me with his actions. He demanded his mother apologize to me before she apologized to him. Griffin wasn’t your typical, run-of-the-mill, ordinary guy. That knowledge made me want to belong to him even more than his dick-slinging skills did.

Once the waitress returned his card, we left the restaurant and headed to our next location.

“We’re gonna be walking, right?” I questioned as I settled into the passenger seat. “Because I’m so full right now. I need to burn off some of these calories.”

He chuckled. “Chill. It’s not like we’re about to do a 5K. We’re gonna be walking but not like that.”